


And I Did It My Way~

by CookieCatSU



Category: Sing (2016)
Genre: Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Mike is a little garbage man who likes to act like he cares for nothing and no one, Mike is in Denial, Mike-Centric, The crew is not fooled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCatSU/pseuds/CookieCatSU
Summary: Buster offers Mike a job. A steady job with a paycheck and everything. At the theater. As an actor. Seriously?Mike is still waiting for the punchline.
Relationships: Mike & Buster Moon, Mike & Moon Theater Group, Mike/Nancy (Sing)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	And I Did It My Way~

The Moon Theater Singing Competition was Mike's lucky break. Nothing more. Just a fresh hustle he'd be over and done with within the month (done, and with a wad of cash he can already _taste)._

"Can I count on you, Mike?"

It was a funny question. Mike struggled not to laugh.

"Course you can, big guy"

As soon as they'd decided what songs Mike would sing (it wasn't much of a decision; Mike dictated, Buster attempted to advise, and Mike refused any such advicements given), he was out the door, with a spring in his step, a shiny new credit card in his pocket, and a brand new saxophone tucked under his arm.

* * *

Mike didn't care about any of the other singers he'd be competing against. It's a competition, and caring about the opposition would just be utterly counterintuitive. So he doesn't.

He heard crying, so he went to investigate. That was all it was. 

He couldn't sing with all the noise, anyway.

_Mike wasn't soft. And he never would, in any way, shape, or form, admit to being anything even remotely similar._

_Nah. Mike was rough-n-tumble, and tough as nails._

So what, if the sight of Meena bawling and crying made his guts twist up with discomfort? Crying _was_ gross.

And so what, if he scampered up on Elephant girl's shoulder and took a seat, like a comforting, little plush toy. She was crying a literal mucking river, and Mike was concerned about being carried away by the sheer force of her agony. So he offered up a placating smile, and maybe he also reached up and wiped away the bigger tears with a soft little mouse hand- because again, _flooding,_ and Mike already had whiplash.

He still hadn’t succeeded in getting all the sewage smell out of his suit from the last time.

"Hey, hey. It's alright. There's uh, no need to cry, doll" He told her quickly, because the last thing they needed was another flooded theater. 

There really wasn't any other reason for the warble in his voice.

He certainly didn't care, or anything. That'd be absurd.

When she started to cry louder, he rushed to reassure her further, but only because he was worried he'd be dislodged by all the shaking and all, and he was terrified of falling so far to the floor.

He didn't know why he asked what was wrong.

He didn't know why she told him the truth. As if he were someone anyone should confide in.

He also doesn't know why he decided to tell her everything would be fine. Or why he stayed, perched on her shoulder, long after it was necessary, but he did.

* * *

"I want to offer you a place at the new and improved Moon Theater"

"What?" Mike's gaze jerked upward, and a mystified smile started to stretch across his face. Then he burst into loud, rumbling laughter.

"Oh wait, wait, _wait"_ He shook his head, and sucked in a deep, steadying breath, "You're _serious?_ Aren't ya?"

It was hilarious, honestly.

Buster's face was the epitome of wide-eyed confusion. "Of course I am. You're a magnificent singer Mike, and I'd love to continue working with you"

And there it is. Concern, in the lift of his brow, and the way his hand reaches downward to hover near Mike's shoulder (far-far down, because Mike was _tiny,_ and of course he needed another reminder of that, after a near constant slew of them). Buster's probably wondering why Mike can't trust that he's wanted, because he could see the disbelief swimming in his eyes.

"That's _rich_ " Mike crooned, cackling, because it was always easier to hurt than be hurt, "...But this place ain't my speed. And I don't work for free"

"I'll pay you! No more working from the heart!"

Mike was already halfway out the arched doorway, "You can't pay my price, Mr. Moon. So thanks, no thanks. See ya"

And just like any time Mike walked out of someone’s life, that was the end of it.

* * *

Except he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way Buster Moon had looked at him, all desperate and hopeful, really rubbed Mike the wrong way. It made him feel like he’d done something wrong when he declined his proposal, and he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t feel guilty about breaking the news that Buster should have expected to hear in the first place.

As if he’d ever say yes.

Mike wasn't an actor, and he didn't do plays.

He was a singer, an artist.

"I think what they're doing is great! It's cute" He boasted, over the beat of music and the slosh of cheap red wine. He leaned back atop the back of the leather chair, feet positioned so it kept the base of the oversized wine glass stationary.

Nancy glanced at him, but didn't offer a response.

"It's just not for me. Does Moon really expect me to spend the rest of my life dancing on his silly little stage? Singing upbeat show tunes? Hard pass"

He chuckled, shaking his head. Drink really did loosen the tongue, so he soon found himself half ranting.

"They're putting on a showing of 'Curtains'. Curtains! Can you believe it? Rosita's going to play the detective. And don't even get me started on Johnny" He laughed loudly, "It's going to be a disaster. I can't wait to see it"

"You miss them" Nancy said, and there wasn't a single question in her tone. It was a forgone conclusion.

Ugh. Nancy had always been prone to such sudden pronouncements, given without much pretense nor evidence. And like every woman Mike has ever known, she was entirely convinced of her correctness.

"That's ridiculous" Mike argued anyhow, because he was a stubborn fool, "I do not"

“That’s why you keep talking about them, right?”

“What? Sweetheart, your seeing things-”

“Here’s a prediction, sweetheart” She grinned, sickly sweet, and loving, but smug, “You enjoyed performing with them. You enjoyed singing ‘silly show tunes’ at Moon Theater, and you’ll be back to accept Mr. Moon’s offer within the week”

Each proclamation is punctuated by a gentle tap against the back of his paw.

“Oh yeah. And you know this how? 'Cause you can see the future?"

"No, I don't. But I know you" Nancy smiled at him.

* * *

Nancy was right.

When Mike found himself walking through the theatre's lobby, it'd only been 5 days.

Buster jumped, halfway in the middle of directing Gunter through the dance in Act 3: Scene 7, when he heard the double doors close behind Mike. He caught sight of the mouse, a little aquamarine dot in the distance, and a lost smile immediately crossed his face.

"Mike? Hey, we were just finishing up rehearsals for the evening. Are you maybe here to join in-?"

Hope, bright and shining, twinkled in his sapphire eyes. It was sweet, and so sickening Mike very much wanted to vomit (and he would have, if this silk suit wasn't so expensive, and if silk wasn't so hard to clean). Instead he gazed away, covered his face, and huffed in exhausted annoyance.

"Just know that I'm not doing it cause you want me to" He snapped, stomping further into the theater past a gaping Buster Moon and an equally flabbergasted Meena.

"Oh?" Buster exclaimed, soft and questioning.

Victorious.

"I'm doing it for me" Mike replied, as if he really had any say in the matter.

If he were completely honest with himself (and he makes sure never to do that), he'd have to admit that the decision wasn't ever in his hands, because Family didn't just let you go. Family always pulled you back in, and you had to answer the call, whether you wanted to or not.

The New Moon Theater was his home, the singers his family. They called out to him, and naturally Mike had to answer that call.

They pulled him back, like a piece of shrapnel to a magnet.

Then that analogy becomes very literal, because Gunter's rushing from the stage and pulling him into a hug so tight it's suffocating, with a happy squeal of excitement.

Mike, surprisingly, isn't even angry.

  
  
  



End file.
